The Angst in the Episodes
by bimontenxgro
Summary: My take on how Booth and Brennan react to their cases as the series goes on. Each chapter takes place after an episode and discusses that episode. Early stuff is pretty angsty, but that will lessen eventually. Cross-posted on AO3
1. False Dichotomies

"False Dichotomies"

 **A/N: Hi guys, so this is my first real attempt at a fanfic. The plan is to do a story for every episode as I rewatch, so I don't know how long this will take me to complete.. The italics are direct quotes from the episodes, which are obviously not mine because I don't own the series.**

 **I hope you enjoy this first story, I'll try to have another up soon!**

* * *

As he drives home after Cleo Eller's funeral, Booth can't shake his feelings of frustration. He doesn't know why she can frustrate him so easily. "She's just a squint," he mutters to himself. His brain doesn't stop there, though. A thought follows his words: "The most beautiful squint I've ever met."

"No, no, no, you can't go there, Booth," he thinks. "She made it clear that's not what she wants. She made it clear after that first case. She left the damn country and wouldn't take your calls. You had to have her fake arrested at the airport in order to get her to speak to you for God's sake!"

That thought works twofold: it helps him stop thinking of her as beautiful—at least for the time being anyway—but it also hurts him. They did a good job together, they helped people when they worked together the first time. So why was she trying so hard to avoid working with him again?

Or was she just trying to avoid him? This thought cuts deeper than it should. He knows that no matter what he feels, he can't let those feelings intrude on their work together. For some reason, he is desperate to have her in his life. He wants more, but if partners is all they can be, he can settle for that.

He parks his car in front of his apartment, ready to put this day behind him. It firmly marks the beginning of their partnership. Sure, the case started days ago, but at the funeral today they started building a rapport of partners rather than just two people working together. He moves his thoughts forward, about to climb out of his car, but then a memory strikes him. After they had walked away from the casket at Cleo's funeral, he told her how he tries to free himself of the weight of his time as a sniper. Her reaction sends chills up his spine, and he can't decide whether he's angry or simply hurt.

Booth sits in his car long after he returns to his apartment. He can't find the motivation to move. He knows he's being ridiculous, but he can't help but feel the sting of her words. _"Please, you don't think there's some kind of…cosmic balance sheet?"_

His palm twitches as he thinks about it, wanting to lash out in frustration. He grips the steering wheel tighter, knowing he can't start hitting things every time he's frustrated. He knows he can never undo what he did as a sniper, knows nothing will bring those people back. But why is it such a silly idea to her that he'd like to make amends? He joined the Army to serve his country, to help other Americans, but sometimes he feels like it was just a waste. How much could he really have helped if the only way he was helping over there was by killing people?

He shakes his head and finally throws open his car door. He can't let himself go down this road. The people he killed, they were bad people. They wanted to kill more people. By killing them, one at a time, he saved countless lives. But that doesn't change the fact that it feels wrong. It's a weight on his conscience everyday and he doesn't need this damn squint laughing at his way of lightening the burden.

* * *

She laughed at him. He opened up to her, and she laughed at him. She knows laughter was a rational response as there is clearly no higher being watching over the number of lives he has taken, waiting for him to stop an equal number of bad guys. So why does she feel so awful about it?

Because she cares about him. She doesn't want to. She doesn't understand why she does, but she cannot escape the fact that she does. So she offered to help him. _"I'd like to help you with that."_

She remembers this moment, can replay it in her head as if it's a video. He smiled in response, yet she can't help but feel like her words weren't enough to make up for her mistake.

* * *

"She offered to help," he reminds himself, trying to will away his anger at her. "She might think it's silly, but she wants to help you anyway. That means something." He reaches into his fridge, pulling out leftover pizza, and forces the memory out of his mind. Letting himself linger on this thought is dangerous, both for himself and for their partnership, and he's not willing to endanger either of those things.

" _Temperance, partners share things. It builds trust."_

" _Since when are we partners?"_

This memory might hurt more than the other one. This memory shows how little she values him. She may have laughed at his coping mechanism, but that just means she doesn't understand what he's been through and how he sees the world. This rebuff, though, says something about how she feels about him. And not a good something. "That was before you opened up to her about being a sniper, Booth," he reminds himself, trying to keep the pain away.

He thought that putting his neck—hell, his career—on the line to get her in the field made them partners. And he was excited about that idea. He wanted to continue working with her despite how irritating he finds her. Clearly she didn't feel that way since she didn't consider him her partner, though.

In that moment, his mind circles back to the first memory. _"I'd like to help you with that."_

She wants to help him make amends. That means she wants to keep working with him. This thought soothes him as he sits down to eat his dinner.

* * *

Why did she brush him off when he said they were partners? Why didn't she just accept that fact? "Because you're afraid of getting close to him, Temperance," she mumbles, answering her own questions. "If he gets close, it's too easy for him to hurt you."

Brennan sees Booth's potential to get close to her, and it terrifies her. It's why she pushed him away throughout the case. No matter how badly she wants him to stay distant, part of her wants to draw him in closer. Her brain replays the moment where she let him in, just for a second.

" _I know exactly how the Ellers felt about Cleo. My parents disappeared when I was fifteen nobody knows what happened to 'em."_

She told him something that she's hardly told anyone, something she tries everyday to forget. She reprimands herself for letting him that far in, for giving him the power to use her history against her. But even as she thinks this, she knows that Booth would never knowingly hurt her. She doesn't know why he won't, but something within herself assures her that this fact is true.

" _Ya know, being a sniper I – I took a lot of lives. What I'd like to do before I'm done…is try and catch at least that many murderers."_

In this moment, he let her in just like she had let him in. Maybe that is why she trusts that he won't hurt her.

" _Please, you don't think there's some kind of…cosmic balance sheet?" He looks down, avoiding her gaze, and she realizes she made a mistake. "I'd like to help you with that."_

As these last words replay in her mind, she realizes she can't trust that he won't hurt her. That's too wide a trust. She didn't mean to hurt him with her words, but she clearly did. And maybe one day he'll do that too.

With this thought, she has another realization: if he accidentally hurts her, she's going to forgive him, just like he forgave her today. Or at least she thinks he forgave her. But then again, she also didn't think her cosmic balance sheet comment would hurt him like it did. Brennan reminds herself why she avoids relationships, platonic or otherwise. "You're not good with people, Temperance, and you don't understand them. You're afraid of letting them in because then they have the power to hurt you, and you don't know how many more times you can handle being hurt."

* * *

As he finishes his dinner and pushes back from the table, another memory surfaces: _"Don't be nice to me after I got you in trouble"_

" _Your heart was in the right place"_

" _I'm not a heart person. You're a heart person, I'm a brain person"_

The lack of faith she has in herself cuts him. She may not see it, but she _is_ a heart person.

" _I know exactly how the Ellers felt about Cleo. My parents disappeared when I was fifteen; nobody knows what happened to 'em."_

In that moment, Bones showed that she's not just a brain person. She opened up and told him about something really big from her past entirely on her own. She didn't need to do that. She told him because she trusted him, to show her empathy for the position the Ellers were in. More than that, it explains why she wants to do this work. It explains why she's not content to stay in the lab like a normal squint. This work means too much to her, its too personal for her to stay behind. When she's in the interviews and at the crime scenes, she can get a fuller picture in order to use the bones to solve the case and bring closure to the victims and their families.

This realization brings Booth back to a place he tries to avoid. His heart aches for her and he wants to help her, to comfort her. He thinks she's beautiful and complex and strong and he wants to understand more of her complexity. But that's not what she wants. She doesn't want to sleep with him, she doesn't even consider them partners. So unless she shows that she's changed her mind, he can't let himself dream of being more to her than what he is.

"Partners," he thinks. "Maybe soon she will consider us partners, then maybe I can hope that one day we'll at least be friends."

* * *

She may have brushed it aside in the moment, but his comment about partners sharing things was in the back of her mind for the rest of the case. So after Cleo's funeral, she had shared something. In return, he shared something about his past, too. In that moment, she felt like they truly were partners, like Booth was someone safe for her to talk with. Sure, she talks _to_ a lot of people, but it is rare for her to talk _with_ someone. Honestly, she only does that with Angela. To Brennan, talking _to_ someone is surface level, while talking _with_ someone is deeper and more meaningful. And when she thinks about Angela, she is reminded of something else.

" _Honey,_ _you ever think you come off a little distant because you connect too much?"_ Angela's words make Brennan more afraid of letting people in than she already was. Before, she only had to keep people away so they didn't hurt her. Angela's perspective changes things, though. If she truly does connect too much with people, then she has a second reason to push people away. If she connects too deeply with someone, which is apparently a possibility, their pain will cause her pain. Even though she's tough on the surface, she still feels the pain of her childhood. She survived and is stronger because of it, but that doesn't take away the difficulties she endured.

Before she had this revelation, she was trying to work on letting people in. It's why she told Booth about her parents. Now she's afraid that's a mistake. Everything with Booth feels like a mistake today. She wants him, but that would be a mistake. She wants to push him away, but that would be a mistake. She wants to show him some vulnerability, to show that she isn't just a squint, but that feels like a mistake, too. She doesn't want to be his partner, but she really does want to be his partner. Everything she feels about this man is either a mistake, a contradiction or both.

Knowing she isn't going to make any headway on this issue tonight, she gets off her couch and goes into her bathroom to get ready for bed. As she climbs into bed, her brain takes a different angle on Angela's statement.

" _Honey,_ _you ever think you come off a little distant because you connect too much?"_ Angela's words ring in Brennan's head as she lies in bed trying to sleep. It is not a thought that had ever crossed her mind before, but maybe there was some truth in Angela's statement. With Cleo Eller, Brennan felt herself connecting to the bones as if they were a person still. To normal people, when a body no longer has a face, it stops having emotions too. But sometimes Brennan thinks she can understand people's emotions better after they're dead, after their flesh is gone. With bones, she can see how they died, and that, in her mind, is one of the most telling things about a person. Cleo, she fought back so hard; she tried to survive, even though she didn't always want to. There's a strength in that, a determination.

When people are dying, they don't put on any facades. They just _are_. That's why Brennan connects so much with the victims she identifies, with the people on her table. She isn't the best at getting around the acts that people put on and the walls they build. She struggles to understand their emotions when they are trying so hard to hide them. Seeing how people react when they're killed shows Brennan what's behind those walls. She sees the genuine nature of the person, not the character they're showing to the world. And maybe that's morbid, that the easiest way for her to connect is when people have been reduced to their bones, but that's how she is. When people are dead, she can connect without fear. They're already dead, so they can't abandon her like everyone else seems to do.

Although she doesn't realize it, she has discovered many truths in Angela's words. She doesn't think she's figured it out because her theories seem contradictory.

Theory One: She pushes people away to avoid truly connecting with them so they can't hurt her. If they don't connect, they can't hurt her. If they don't connect, their pain can't hurt her. She connects automatically, but she pushes away to keep from connecting on a deeper level to protect herself.

Theory Two: She connects so much that she pushes everyone away to prevent the pain they could bring to her. She connects better with dead bodies, with the remains on her table, because she doesn't have to be afraid of how they'll hurt her. In this situation, she is fixing the hurt instead of enduring it. She is cataloguing the last moments in order to bring justice and closure to the victims and their families.

The dichotomy she sees between her two core theories of connecting too much is false, just as the seeming contradiction in Angela's statement is false. The theories have the same central theme: she tries to avoid deep connections that she thinks will cause her pain. With people, she pushes away to avoid the pain. With remains, she pulls them closer to try to end their pain.

Angela's statement is incredibly astute: Brennan feels so strongly that she has to compartmentalize and convince everyone—including herself—that she doesn't feel anything at all. It's a way of protecting herself.

As Brennan falls asleep, she doesn't know which of her theories is correct or if Angela's statement was just false.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you liked it! As I said, this is my first true attempt at writing a fanfic, so I would appreciate any feedback, positive or negative, as long as it's constructive. I have the next two episodes written, but I need to get them edited and I want to have more written before I post. I'll definitely have the next one up by next week, though, potentially sooner if I get positive feedback. I'm also working on a couple other unrelated stories that I hope to finish relatively soon.**


	2. Uncertainty and Uneasiness

**A/N: Thank you to everyone for such a positive response on the last chapter! I really appreciate it, especially those of you who took the time to write a review. Just wanted to give a heads up that this chapter uses memories from the flashback in "The Parts in the Sum of the Whole" since technically the characters would have those memories at this point. So, if you haven't seen that episode yet, proceed with caution. I will be pulling those memories in throughout this entire series because I feel like it helps with character development. Please continue to review! I appreciate any constructive feedback!**

* * *

Last case she laughed at his cosmic balance sheet, but this time she tried to help him cope with the burden of taking another life. She gave him all the physical markers that meant that the man with the camera bag was certainly Farid Masruk. When that wasn't enough for him to pull the trigger, she made Farid turn around. She enabled Booth to take the shot, to end another life, knowing that it had to be done.

" _You saved so many people, Booth. Don't forget that."_

His mind wanders to their conversation at the bar. He told her taking a life wasn't a reason to celebrate, and instead of arguing against his assertion, Bones continued to try to comfort him. The light in front of him turns red, pulling him back to the present. As he drives home, he picks apart the differences between last case and this case. Last case, she seemed detached, but this case she did everything she could in order to get as close as possible to a proper Muslim burial for the victim. She showed her pain this time, even if she did deflect from it afterwards.

" _Ya know it's okay to be upset."_

" _I wish this was the worst thing I'd seen."_

That notion hurts him, even though it shouldn't. To know she's seen worse than a man whose remains can hardly be removed from the seat of his car causes Booth pain. He's seen worse too. He understands how painful this world can be; he has seen people do terrible things to innocent people. But for some reason he doesn't want Bones to recognize this reality. She may irritate him, but she's also growing on him. He likes having her as his partner, and it means a lot to him that she's starting to connect with him more emotionally throughout the cases.

He has another memory: " _You're solitary," he says. "No, I'm private. It's different," Brennan replies._

If she's not solitary, does that mean she has a boyfriend? Is that why she told him to go home to Tessa, so she could go home to someone too? He laughs at that thought. With how she reacted to seeing him shirtless, to seeing Tessa, he doesn't think she's seeing anyone. He saw her breath catch when he opened the door and he saw her face drop when Tessa came out in his shirt. It shouldn't make him smile that Bones is jealous of Tessa, but it does. It eases the sting of her reminding him to go home to Tessa earlier that night.

And then he remembers: _"I don't have a boyfriend."_

That eases the sting a bit too. He told her that it was a sad indicator of the state of her personal life, but that's only partially true.

It's sad for her that she doesn't have anyone to go home to.

It's not sad for him that no one else gets to go home to her.

It's sad for him that he doesn't get to go home to her.

It's not sad for her that she doesn't have to go home to him.

He knows that she's jealous of Tessa and that she's single. But despite that knowledge, he doesn't think she has any desire to be with him."She had her chance," he tells himself hoping that she'll prove him wrong yet again.

Booth pulls up in front of his apartment. For a few minutes, he just sits there staring at the steering wheel. He knows he should be happy because his sexy girlfriend is cooking dinner as he sits there, but he isn't. He knows this should be enough to make him happy, but it's not. Eventually, he runs out of excuses to stay in his car, so he gets out and heads to his apartment. Before he opens his front door, he pauses again. He wonders if Bones is still at Wong Fu's or if she's gone home by now, too. He walks through his front door, bracing himself for the interaction that he knows will fall short of what he craves.

* * *

When she stood up to leave the bar, she was unsteady, but not because of the wine. It was Booth: her feelings for Booth, how he was acting before he left, and the fact that he has a girlfriend. Brennan can't understand why this last thought upsets her so much. Booth is her partner, that's it. She didn't even want to be his partner until recently. She pushed aside the fact that she ran away from being his partner because he confessed that felt like they were "going somewhere."

As she's leaving the Jeffersonian after identifying William Donohue's remains, the feelings flood back to her. She doesn't even know if she likes him yet, so it's entirely irrational that she's feeling jealous over the sight of that lawyer in lingerie and his shirt. When he answered the door with his shirt unbuttoned, the feelings from that first night in the bar flooded back to her.

" _If we don't work together anymore, we could have sex."_

In that moment, she was thinking maybe she shouldn't have gone home alone that night. Her mind goes back to their first kiss, and she wants to feel that again. She hates that Tessa has gotten to experience more with Booth than she has. "Stop it, Tempe," she mutters to herself as she pulls onto the road. "You made your choice. You like the work you're doing with him, so you can't go back on that choice."

In spite of her typically hyper-rational demeanor, she can't help but wish that she could have more with Booth. She knows it isn't smart, knows she can't give him any more power to hurt her, but she can't help it. She wants more with Booth. She wants to be his friend.

* * *

As he sits at the table eating dinner with Tessa, he can't help but resent the fact that Bones sent him home to her. He hates that he feels like this, but when he could be with Bones, sitting at home with Tessa is the last thing he wants to do. He wanted to stay and have another drink with his partner.

More than resentment, though, he feels hurt. He thought they were getting closer, thought they were becoming friends. If he was right, then why did she send him home? Any other friend would have been more than happy to have another drink with him.

Tessa's hand on his arm pulls him out of his own head. "What was that?" he asks, forcing himself to keep thoughts of Bones out of his mind, at least until Tessa is asleep

* * *

As she sits down on her couch, Brennan feels the sting of rejection Okay, she knows calling it rejection isn't fair, but that's what it feels like. She told him he should be going home to Tessa, and he actually left. Part of her was hoping that he'd stay anyway, that they'd have another drink together before they faced reality.

Although she would expect to find her thoughts lingering on Booth, Brennan can't seem to keep away the thoughts of Tessa. It happened throughout the whole case. She knew Booth was annoyed that she kept mentioning Tessa, but she couldn't force herself to stop. She hates that she's letting this random woman occupy so much of her brain's processing power right now. "She's not random," the thought flashes through Brennan's mind. "She's Booth's girlfriend, she's your partner's girlfriend."

"He's just your partner, Tempe. You shouldn't be feeling like this just because he has a girlfriend," she says to herself.

In this moment, Brennan thinks back to her conversation with Tessa. _"I was studying a cranial fissure on an attorney last week…of course, he was dead," Brennan says._ Even for her, this was bad. Looking back, she knows she shouldn't have said that, she knows it was stupid. She isn't great with people, but she usually isn't this tremendously bad with them either.

She can't figure out what it is about Tessa that is doing this to her. Temperance Brennan has never been one to place value on psychology, but she does find it weird that she cannot act like herself whenever she thinks of Tessa. And she can't stop thinking about Tessa; that's weird too. From the moment she found out Tessa existed, Brennan has been consumed by jealousy, which she has never experienced like this before. Her only respite came when she was actively working on the case or identifying her World War I remains.

Now that she's back at home, she can't force her thoughts away from this woman who is dating Booth.

* * *

As Booth washes the dinner dishes, his mind goes back to something Bones said earlier.

" _You think you understand women just because you live with a sexy lawyer?"_

He knows Bones is jealous of Tessa, even if she might not know it yet. On some level, it makes him happy—it makes him feel wanted—but it also makes him angry. Bones had a chance to be with him, and she left. So why does she keep bringing up Tessa? The whole case she barely stopped asking, from the moment she saw Tessa in his apartment. It frustrates him beyond belief. It makes him hold out hope that she might want to try being together one day. He knows that's a ridiculous hope, so her jealousy frustrates him more than anything. He doesn't want to be angry with her, so he tells himself to be flattered.

A smile crosses his face at the fact that he has two beautiful women—Bones and Tessa—who want him. At that moment, Tessa comes up behind him and turns off the water. She wraps her arms around him and presses her stomach to his back. She kisses his neck and mumbles in his ear that he should come to bed.

* * *

A smile flashes across Brennan's mouth as she remembers what Angela told her. Tessa is threatened by her. It shouldn't make her happy, but it does. She knows she can't be in a relationship with Booth, but she enjoys knowing that a woman in Booth's life— _the_ woman in Booth's life—deems her close enough to Booth to be a threat to their relationship.

But she also recognizes that she needs to let Booth be happy. She made her choice, she left him alone that night, so she needs to let him live his life. Booth makes her happy, working with him makes her happy, so she wants to be in his life. In order for her to do that, she can't be happy about being a threat to women in his life. She wants Booth to be happy, but she hates the thought that another woman might be the one making him happy.

* * *

He rolls onto his back, breathing heavy. He looks at the ceiling as he puts his arm around Tessa and she nestles into his body. She smiles at him sleepily before closing he eyes. As her breathing slows, he tries to replay the moment in his head. The moment where he closed his eyes and saw Bones in his bed, saw himself inside _her_ , instead of Tessa. He had tensed a bit at the thought, and Tessa sped up, thinking he was about to orgasm. Giving in to his impulse, he had closed his eyes and thought of Bones as he reached his climax. He caught himself with her name on his lips, so he leaned in and kissed Tessa as she followed his orgasm with her own.

Replaying this moment in his head, he knows he and Tessa can't last much longer. Earlier he was resenting her because he had to leave Bones to go home to Tessa. Now he can't even keep Brennan out of his thoughts while he's fucking his girlfriend. "Dammit," he thinks as he slowly moves Tessa's head off of his chest and onto the pillow. He sneaks out of bed and into his bathroom, where he splashes water on his face. "She doesn't want you, Booth," he says as he looks at himself in the mirror. "She made it clear that first night and every night since. Hell, she showed it tonight when she reminded you to go home to Tessa instead of staying at Wong Fu's and drinking with her."

He doesn't know why it hurts him so much that she reminded him that Tessa was waiting at his apartment. He doesn't know why it hurts him that Bones even knows Tessa exists in the first place. It's like he's afraid that this information is going to hurt Bones, but he doesn't know why it would do that either. As he walks back to bed, he shakes his head. "Your whole damn relationship with Bones is built on not knowing."

* * *

Moving away from thoughts of Tessa, Brennan's mind circles back to her conversation with Angela in her office. Angela had been trying to convince her to agree to weekend plans, but Brennan was resisting as usual:

" _We'll grab Booth," Angela says._

" _No!" Brennan exclaims._

" _I think he likes you."_

"That was before we knew about Tessa, Tempe," she tells herself halfheartedly. Her brain counters immediately though. "You know Angela still thinks he wants you, no matter who he goes home to at night." She pours herself another glass of wine before going to her bedroom. As she gets ready for bed, she tries to follow the logic in this situation.

"Logic says that since Booth is with Tessa, he has feelings for her. Angela says he has feelings for me, though. I don't see it, but Angela is much better at interpersonal relationships than I am. Which means logic also says that Angela's belief has some credence to it." She pauses for a moment as she sits on her bed and sips her wine. "Dammit," she thinks. "The logic on one side is conflicting with the logic on the other side." Rationally, she knows that pure logic states that Booth has feelings for Tessa. This time, however, she can't seem to side with pure reason. She's influenced by her emotions and by her trust in her best friend.

When she decides logic can't answer this question for her, she finishes her glass of wine. As she goes to brush her teeth, she turns to the next best solution: evaluating the facts.

Fact: Booth is with Tessa.

Fact: That fact hurts Brennan

Fact: Booth wanted to stay at Wong Fu's with Brennan.

Fact: That fact makes Brennan smile.

Fact: Booth went home to Tessa anyway.

Fact: That fact hurts the most.

Brennan climbs into bed and remembers why she poured that last glass of wine in the first place: logic and facts weren't working for her tonight. She feels conflicted and rolls onto her side, hoping sleep will come quickly.

* * *

Booth climbs back into bed, but makes no move to pull Tessa back into his arms like he typically would. He feels dishonest holding her when all he seems to want is Bones. Part of him, his conscience maybe, tells him he should end things with Tessa if all he can think of is Bones. Being with one woman when he wants another isn't right, and he knows that. But he tries to convince himself that his feelings for Bones will fade as he realizes she doesn't want him and vows to try to work things out with Tessa.

Even as he falls asleep, he knows the relationship is doomed, but that won't stop him from trying to salvage it.

* * *

Sleep has not come quickly and two hours later, Brennan is still tossing and turning. She's never been like this before. Well, at least not since she aged out of foster care. But certainly never over a man. The realization that Booth is doing something to her that no other man has ever been able to do unsettles her even further. She groans as she rolls onto her stomach and presses her face into the pillow, trying to forget about Booth.

Instead, her brain does the opposite. She starts remember things about Booth that she hadn't thought of since the case ended.

" _Booth says you're the best."_ She hears the Homeland Security agent's words ring in her head, and they soothe her. She doesn't want them to soothe her, but they do nonetheless.

No matter what happens between them personally, Booth has faith in her professional capabilities. She _is_ the best, that much is simply a fact, but knowing that Booth says it brightens her mood a bit. "Our partnership is sound," she thinks. "If he knows I'm the best and called me to work with him again, that means he still thinks we're partners, even though I said we weren't during the last case."

"He fought to work with you when you came back from Guatemala. He wants to work with you." As she tells herself this, she feels herself begin to fall asleep.

Her final thoughts before she falls asleep are not purely peaceful, though. "He shared part of his past with you, Tempe," she thinks in an effort to comfort herself of her place in his life, regardless of his romantic partner. The thought has a different effect, however. "His balance sheet," she remembers. "We threw it off today when he had to kill Farid." Suddenly, she tries to keep a tally of how she has played into his cosmic balance sheet. She helped him put away Cleo Eller and Gemma Arrington's killers. That makes up for two of the lives he had to take in the Army. Technically she helped him with Hamid Masruk's killer as well, but he had to kill Farid. So today she helped Booth add another name to the list of lives he'd taken.

She falls asleep thinking of whether she did enough to support him, knowing he struggled with the morality of his actions. Across town, Booth knows that she did as much as she could for him and his balance sheet on this case. He doesn't know how much it matters to her whether what she did was enough, though. He doesn't understand how deeply she's grown to care for him over their short partnership. And that leaves both of them feeling unsettled, each feeling like they care more than the other does.


	3. Collection of Cracks

**1x03 – A Boy in the Tree**

"A Collection of Cracks"

 **A/N: Thank you again for the kind reviews! My plan for now is to post this story once a week, on Sundays. My goal is to aim for a schedule slow enough that I can write enough over the summer in order to continue to post regularly through the school year. For that to work, I need to be writing far faster than I am posting. So I am hoping to write roughly two chapters of this story a week and post one a week. Additionally, this chapter uses some italics for Brennan to analyze moments that aren't verbatim from the show, which is breaking from my usual pattern, I know. Any** _ **dialogue**_ **, however, that is in italics will still be from the show verbatim. The other italics in this chapter are flashbacks to moments that would have taken place during the timeline of the episode, but that we didn't see on screen. Please continue to review! Okay, sorry the AN was so long on this one, now onto the story!**

* * *

She sits in the booth long after the others have left, nursing her second glass of wine so she has an excuse to stay. Sid carries over a second meal for her, exactly what she wanted, yet again, so she pastes a smile onto her face for a moment. As he walks away and she takes a bite, the smile drops, but not because she is displeased with Sid's choice. Her eyes flash to his empty seat at the bar. "Why doesn't he believe I can do anything like a normal person?" she asks herself, although she immediately answers her own question. "Because you can't, Tempe, you're too broken to be normal. You have your emotions locked in a box under all the bodies you've identified so you can do your job—so you can live your life—without your past—and their pasts—crushing you." She sighs and finishes her glass of wine, looking over to Sid at the bar for another.

* * *

He sits on his couch, the Flyers game on his TV but not registering in his head, wondering why all he did this case was push her away. She tried to keep up pleasant conversation in the car on the way to the scene, but he shut her down to give her a lesson on politics, not trusting her to be tactful on her own. "But she has never shown any tact," he mutters to himself, trying to pry away the guilt he feels. Booth knows he hurt her, he heard it in her voice when she said he thinks she's too task-oriented. But if he ever wants to move up at the Bureau, he needs a partner who can help him play the politics.

* * *

She finishes her meal and the third glass of wine and pushes herself up from the table. She leaves cash on the table, enough to cover the meals and a generous tip, even though she doesn't know what she owes. As she walks out of the restaurant to her car, she tries to push the memory out of her head. The memory of the moment he thought she couldn't even feel sadness over the death of a young boy and express that to his parents just because she's "bad with people." He didn't see the pain on her face as the words left his mouth, or at least she doesn't think he did, which is for the best. He can't know that he has the power to hurt her without meaning to because then he can use that power. "Everyone you've ever trusted has hurt you," she says to herself as she drives home. "It's better not to trust, it's better to stay closed off, that way he can't hurt you."

But as these words leave her mouth she remembers the moment after their first case after she arrived home from Guatemala, remembers how she told him about her family, and how he responded by telling her about the weight of his time as a sniper. Maybe she isn't as good at closing herself off to him as she wants to tell herself she is. As she walks through the door into her apartment, she pulls off her coat, throwing it onto the couch before moving into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine. She told herself she'd only have two glasses, but she'd already surpassed that at Wong Fu's and she couldn't keep the hurt from breaking through sober. It will be harder to hide from it drunk, but at least the alcohol will dull the pain.

* * *

" _I'm not a sociopath, Booth."_ Her words ring in his head, louder than the buzzer signaling the end of the Flyers game. Why would she say that? "Because she feels like you don't think she has human emotions, idiot." His internal voice fights through his attempt to distance himself from the statement, to pretend it wasn't a direct response to his words. God, why did he have to be so harsh with her? "Because she frustrates you, Booth. She doesn't let you in when all you want is to know everything about her." He shakes his head, determined to not let himself continue to hurt her like this, no matter how frustrating she is. If he ever wants to earn her trust, he needs to reign in his own emotions enough to protect hers, enough to eventually be _shown_ hers. He sees them in glimpses when she thinks he's not looking or when he hurts her again. But he wants more than that. He wants her to show her emotions knowing that he can see them; he wants to be the one to help her through the pain, not be the one that causes it.

* * *

"When I was talking to Nestor's mom at the end of the case," she thinks, "in that moment he saw that I can be 'human,' whatever that means. I showed my emotions, I comforted her." She pauses for a moment before speaking, " _Without_ his prodding," with the irritation rolling off her tongue. _"You got it right this time, Temperance."_ His words are soothing, but they shouldn't be. She feels rather than notices the condescension in the phrase, as if he is surprised by her ability to connect with another person. She wants to be offended at his attitude, but she can't be. Truthfully, it surprised her a bit, too. She has spent so long hiding those emotions, burying them deeper as time goes on, in order to do her job, to bring closure to the bones on her table.

For the first time, she clears her mind for long enough for something else to register: he used her real name, not "Bones." This realization fills her with warmth, just as the wine she's holding does. But her given name on his lips has more power than all the wine in the world. Calling her Bones keeps her distant, which is how she knows she needs to be, but hearing him call her Temperance makes her crave his touch.

God, this man holds so much power over her and she's barely even given him any information about herself. He manages to break through her barriers without even an idea of the barriers' material. He just understands her on some level.

* * *

With Ambassador Olivos she got it right, she said exactly the right thing, and so this moment replays in Booth's mind. He had left her alone, had let her handle the victim's family on her own terms, and she had hit it out of the park. "Why couldn't I have just trusted her for once? Had some faith in her?" But he doesn't know whether Bones would have been pushed to try so hard to get it right if he hadn't hurt her. "Maybe this hurt had a purpose, Seeley," he thinks to himself before correcting himself. "No. You weren't trying to motivate her; you don't know how she reacts well enough to have caused this purposely. You hurt her out of frustration and trying to climb the Bureau ladder. Don't try to pretend it had some nobler cause."

As much as he does not want to admit it, Booth knows there's another reason he spent this entire case brushing her off. He's still upset that she sent him home to Tessa last case. He tried to move more towards friendship—hell, he needed to be with the person who knew the weight that taking Farid's life would place on Booth—at the end of the last case. She didn't care, though. She sent him home to his girlfriend, and that stung more than he liked to admit. So this case, he returned the favor. It was somewhat subconscious, he didn't always realize he was doing it, but he took her attempts at growing their friendship and shut them down immediately. He didn't realize he was hurting himself when he did that.

His previous train of thought, though, does not leave him. Maybe there's a grain of truth in it. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, at some point he is going to need to risk hurting her in order to break through those damn walls she builds around herself. But not yet. It's not a thought he can bear yet, and besides, he needs to learn her better before he can risk that. If he doesn't have a decent grasp on how she's likely to react, then he's hurting her just for the sake of hurting her.

So he moves on, replaying the rest of their interactions of today. His only thought, other than that he hopes she's okay, is that he's going to need to study her the way she studies her bones if he ever wants to have a shot with Temperance Brennan.

* * *

 _After he calls her Temperance, she softens to him a bit. She decides she wants to give him a peace offering, so she gets him his own Jeffersonian badge so people don't need to swipe him onto the platform all the time. "It's practical," she told herself as she was having it made._ Now, she pours the last of the wine bottle into her glass as she thinks about how she gave it to him _. She walked over and sat down next to him at the bar. She felt timid as she went because he had declared the bar his and his alone, a squint-free zone. "But," she reasoned to herself, "he can't get mad at me if I'm just coming over to be nice, to show him I care about him as my partner."_

She replays the moment in her mind, the moment where she covered up what she wanted to say with a rational explanation. She wanted to say, "I trust you, Booth," but instead she explained that she would try to "accord it an appropriate degree of worth." She doesn't know why she trusts him _or_ his digestive tract, but she finds that he does. _He thanks her and calls her Temperance again, but then something else flashes through his eyes. She can't detect what it is before he says, "So, uh, what part of 'this is mine' did you not understand?"_ Her fear in coming over here had been valid after all. She regrets it. She always does. It's never smart to allow yourself to be open, to forego the rational for the emotional. It only leads to pain.

* * *

 _She's gonna trust his gut. She comes over to the bar and tells him she's gonna try to trust his gut. All of a sudden his stomach is doing backflips and it's like he can't find his footing._

Even now, when it's only a memory, he places two feet squarely on the floor to ground himself. She has never seemed more unreadable than in this moment.

" _Thank you, Temperance," escaped his mouth before he could stop it. Her eyes softened as he used her first name, which made him freeze._

He cringes at the memory of how cruel he was to her after she let down her walls a bit. _"So, uh, what part of 'this is mine' did you not understand?"_ He didn't mean to say it, and thinking about it now sends him to the fridge to grab a beer. As he takes a sip, the image of her stricken face as his words hit her floods his brain.

* * *

The words hit her and immobilize her. Just as she is about to respond by handing him the badge and leaving, he fires another bullet. It's evident that he was a sniper, because the words hit their intended target even though there was only a quarter-sized opening in her defenses. _"Have to say it in Latin?" He laughs as he says it, cutting her even deeper._

Tears come to her eyes as she remembers the moment.

 _She looks down and smirks._

As she sits on her couch, she is grateful that she has this type of dig thrown at her frequently. It always stings a bit, but she's learned to cover the pain by matching the speaker's tone. He laughed as he said it, so she smirked. But this time, the words were more than a minor sting. They were a shot through her heart.

* * *

" _Have to say it in Latin?" he laughs._

In the moment, the words felt cathartic. She builds up these barriers around herself that he doesn't know how to break, so he just tries to push her away.

 _He laughs as she stands and places something next to him on the bar as she walks away. She says something in Latin that he doesn't understand, so he ignores it. He picks up the new Jeffersonian ID—his Jeffersonian ID—and smiles even bigger, muttering "thank you" even though she can't hear it from her booth with the other squints._

As he sits back down in his armchair with the beer, he picks up the ID and begins to spin it in his fingers. He puts it down and reaches over to pull his laptop onto his legs. He opens Google and types in some combination of letters that sort of look like they _might_ be what she said as she walked away. When that returns no usable results, he adds "translate from Latin" and Google responds "Did you mean ' _absit invidia'_ translate from Latin?" He clicks to show results for that search, cause those words seem like Latin to him.

* * *

 _She stands to leave the bar, to leave_ his _place. As she moves, she hands him the Jeffersonian ID she had made up for him and says, "Absit invidia."_

"Absit invidia." Why did she say that when his words hurt her so much?

* * *

"Let ill will be absent." This is what his Google search turns up. So he guesses that means she wasn't upset about him sending him away from the bar, about the Latin comment.

* * *

"Tempe, you said it because no matter how much it hurt you, you don't want to hurt him," she mutters to herself. It's hard for her to rationalize this behavior. Hiding her pain is logical; by building up her barriers she appears outwardly stronger and wards off people from trying to break through the walls. Her walls protect her from suffering the pain she experienced when her parents disappeared. But her desire to protect him despite his callous remarks that hurt her doesn't make sense. Rationally, she should allow him to feel the same type of pain he causes, to agonize when he hurts her like she does if she harms him. "He wouldn't agonize over it, though, because he doesn't care. He hurt you, he took a low blow, and then laughed about it."

* * *

"Wait," he thinks as wheels in his head begin to turn. "If she felt the need to say she's not mad about it, then it means she has reason to be offended by it. _Shit._ What did I do?" The sense of panic that had just left him returns as he processes what he said earlier that day. Setting the laptop aside, he takes another swig of his beer and tries to process how he hurt her with the Latin comment. He knows he was wrong to send her away when she offered an olive branch, but what about the final comment was so bad?

* * *

She swirls the last sips of wine in her glass before taking it all down in one swig. She checks the clock: 1 AM. She has to be up for work in five hours, but she's still sitting on her couch drinking. She knows she is going to regret it in the morning, but she can't pull herself away from the couch. She can't get the fact that he doesn't care about her out of her head.

But more than that, she thought he could see through her walls. If he could, though, he would have known the Latin comment hit too close to home. She uses her academic language—and her work as a whole—to cope. The normal world and its emotions crushed her when her parents left, so she took refuge in what she had left: knowledge, school, her intelligence, and herself. To this day, she hides behind her façade of genius. True, she is brilliant, but she feels more than she lets on. And up until now, it has worked for her. Until now, people couldn't penetrate it. "Shouldn't you be happy that he can't see through your walls like you thought he could?" she asks herself, shaking her head. Rationally, she knows she should be happy about this discovery, so why isn't she?

* * *

Booth has left the couch and is pacing around his living room with a beer in one hand and the ID in his other. He racks his brain, but nothing seems to explain how a joke about her understanding Latin better than normal people talk could have hurt her. Suddenly he stops and shouts, "Dammit!" as he slams his beer onto the coffee table, some of it splashing over the top. "It's like with the sociopath comment. She feels like I can't see her as a human."

* * *

Part of her wants him to break down her walls. She's terrified of the repercussions, but part of her wants him to make her feel, to truly allow herself to feel whatever it is that she feels for him. But she can't. She enjoys the work she does with him. She enjoys working with him, it's brought a new level of fulfillment to her life. She loves identifying her World War I remains, but she appreciates giving bones an identity and justice before they've been in boxes for decades. She enjoys the feeling of pride that fills her chest when she learns that a killer has been convicted using evidence she found for the prosecutor. "Why can't you lower your walls and continue this work?" she thinks. She sighs at her own illogical question. "Because, Temperance, everyone you have ever loved, everyone who has ever seen you without your walls, has abandoned you and taken a part of you with them in the process. With Booth, the piece he takes would be your work with the FBI."

* * *

"I spent this entire case hurting her. All I did was insult her and push her away, yet she made _two_ peace offerings. I thought _she_ was supposed to be the one who has her walls up so high she can't even look at others, not me. So why am I the one pushing her away while she tries to make amends for the sins she did not commit?" He's pacing again as these thoughts race through his head. "She could have left it at her concession that maybe my gut instinct does have some value. After all, as soon as she did that I pushed her away, and I pushed hard, but she still gave me the ID…I don't understand her. Every time I think I have her figured out, she goes and does something unexpected."

* * *

She washes the makeup off her face and brushes her teeth while she tries to replay her last actions towards him in her head. She pushed her logic aside to show she trusted him, but he pushed her away. Instead of walking away silent, she played into his Latin joke and told him, in Latin, that she wasn't upset with him, although she was. Then, she gave him the Jeffersonian ID. Another example of trust, this time in their partnership. She trusts their partnership and values it enough that she wants his access to the lab to be as full as her own in order to aid the investigation. The lab is her sanctuary, and she really hopes he understands how much trust this act required.

"Why does he just keep pushing me away when I try to let him a little closer?" she asks herself as she climbs into bed and turns off the light. The question rings in her head as she drifts into sleep and stays throughout her dreams.

* * *

Although Bones is sleeping in her apartment, Booth is still wide awake in his. He searches his mind, trying to find the answers. Why is he pushing her away? Why is she continuing to be nice to him? Why did she tell him to go home to Tessa the last time they sat together at the bar in Wong Fu's? Why did he listen? Why hasn't he called Tessa since? Sure, he answers when she calls him, but that's not the same thing.

The last question is the only one he can answer: he's stopped calling Tessa because the pull that Bones has on him is too strong. And maybe that answers the rest of the questions too. Maybe he's pushing because if he doesn't he will be unable to escape her. And maybe she's still being nice to him because she feels a similar pull towards him. He shakes his head at that thought. She can't feel drawn to him, can she?

He ponders this for a moment, and then realizes that maybe she does. From what he can see, she has her walls up a mile high and at least six feet thick on all sides, but she's showing him the cracks. Crack one: her parents' disappearance. Crack two: "I am not a sociopath." Crack three: absit invidia. "These cracks are the key," he mutters to himself as he pulls off his jeans and swapping them for sweats before climbing into bed. "If I can collect enough of these little cracks, maybe I'll understand her well enough to lead her towards putting a hole in the walls. And then, if I react to that hole correctly, maybe I can do something about this pull she has over me."

With that, he falls asleep. When he wakes the next morning, he's made a decision. He is going to put his energy into trying to understand Temperance Brennan as well as she understands human bones.

* * *

Brennan leans on her hands with her elbows on her desks fighting to keep her eyes open. Angela walks in, takes one look at her best friend, and knows something is up. "What's wrong, sweetie?" she asks.

Brennan freezes for a second before stumbling over her words. "I'm – nothing – I'm fine."

"Bren, you may be a brilliant forensic anthropologist, but you're a terrible liar. Tell me the truth. Does this have something to do with whatever kept you at that restaurant last night after the rest of us left."

Brennan sighs, knowing she has been caught in her lie. She's afraid to tell Angela because Angela _will_ go back to meddling in her relationship with Booth the minute she has the opportunity. Despite this fear, Brennan tells her friend what's happening. She knows there's no use lying and is quite frankly too hung over and too tired to try. "I'm confused, Angela. Booth tried so hard to get me to agree to work with him again—he made TSA catch me at the airport when I came back from Guatemala—but now it's like he's pushing me away every time I feel like we're becoming…friends." She doesn't know how to describe her relationship with Booth, but she knows "friends" doesn't quite fit.

"Are you finally admitting you have a thing for him?" Angela asks with a sparkle in her eyes.

" _What?_ No, of course not. I'm just saying that I'm confused. And as I'm quite intelligent, that doesn't happen frequently, so it concerns me."

"But you're hungover, sweetie. Confusion does not lead to drowning your sorrows in a bottle of wine. What is it really? Spill."

"Honestly, I don't know, Angela," she pauses for a moment. Defeated, Brennan lies her head on her desk as her best friend comes over to try continue trying to get some answers so she can help Brennan book a ticket on the ride that is Agent Booth.

With her head still buried in her arms on the desk, Brennan mutters, "What does it mean that he called me _his_ forensic anthropologist, Angela? I understand that it must mean something, but I have no idea what."


	4. Unpartnerly Thoughts and Feelings

**A/N: Hi everyone, thank you for the positive responses on what I've posted this week! That said, if you're still enjoying this series, please continue to review. This one is harder to write than my others, and if you're not interested I might shelf it for a while and focus on the stuff you are enjoying. I'm posting a little early because I'm not sure if I'll have time to post before I leave the house tomorrow and it is _technically_ Sunday where I am (by about 20 minutes). ****This one is pretty long, I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Brennan and Angela cross the threshold of Brennan's apartment. "One minute he's hitting on me, the next he's trying to jump the courier's bones," Angela groans.

"Well, you are quite beautiful, so it's logical that he's making sexual advances towards you," Brennan replies.

"Thanks, Bren, but that's not really the point," Angela laughs.

"Well what is the point?"

"It's annoying that he hits on everything with a pulse."

"Are you saying that because you want to sleep with him?"

"What? Brennan, no, you're still missing the point."

* * *

Booth pulls his suitcase through the door, trying to forget his first meal of the day.

" _I bet he's a great skier. His hips and thighs are perfectly developed for strength and maneuverability."_

" _I'm done."_

" _What? No good? You want some cornflakes?"_

He knows Bones isn't great with people, but damn, how can she be that bad with people? He knows she doesn't want to be with him, but she also knows he wants to sleep with her. How can she not realize how sexual that statement is? Or does she do it on purpose, to watch him get jealous?

* * *

"Whatever, that's not really what's important right now. What _is_ important is whether or not you finally slept with Booth."

"Why would I have slept with Booth? We weren't even sharing a room."

"News travels fast, Bren. We all know what you said to Goodman when he told you why you were going on this trip with Booth. 'Are you saying I should take this opportunity to have sex with Agent Booth on a field trip?'"

"Well, Angela, I didn't say I was _going_ to have sex with Booth, I just asked if that was what he was implying I _should_ do."

"If you thought he was implying that it's because you were thinking about doing it."

"That is not at all logical."

"That's psychology, Bren."

"I don't believe in psychology, it's a soft science."

"You don't believe in it because it's about feelings and you don't want to talk about those."

* * *

He leaves his suitcase by the door, knowing he won't bother to unpack tonight, as he walks to the kitchen to find something to eat for dinner. As much as he misses being with Bones already, Booth does _not_ miss that small town. It seemed to him like someone new was trying to get into his partner's pants every 30 seconds. He shudders as he remembers that one of them may have succeeded.

 _The morning after he lost the park ranger in the woods, Booth sits and waits for Brennan at breakfast. After twenty minutes pass, he calls her room to make sure she's awake. When she doesn't answer, he doesn't know what to do. He begins drumming on his legs with his hands as he stares at his eggs, which continue to get colder. "Why isn't she down here?" he thinks. He sighs and takes a bite of his eggs. "Great, my eggs are disgusting and I don't have Bones to keep me company. What's got her occupied so late this morning?" When the thought occurs to him, he fork falls faster than his jaw does. His mind begins to race with thoughts he wishes he never had. "Any one of those dudes from the bar last night. Probably the doctor," he thinks to himself. "He's the only one smart enough for her." Deciding he's had enough cold eggs for the day, he walks out to the SUV to wait for Bones there, hoping the change of scenery will change the trajectory of his thoughts._

Booth shakes his head to clear those thoughts again. He pulls a box of pasta from a cabinet as he sets a pot of water to boil. "No way she slept with someone when we didn't know who was the murderer," he says to himself. But then he has another memory: _"Why the sudden interest in my morning habits, Booth?"_

He knows Bones doesn't like to share, but why would she get so defensive if she didn't have something to hide. "Dammit," he says, slamming his palm into the counter. Then he remembers that he has no right to be angry at her, even if she did sleep with someone that night. They're just partners. And _he_ is sleeping with someone for God's sake. "You can't get jealous every time someone is interested in her, Booth. You've seen her, you know why they're interested. Hell, it's the same reason _you're_ interested," he thinks to himself. "But they're only interested in what they see on the outside," he corrects, "you're interested in way more than that. You're interested in what's underneath her hot body and her academic exterior, in what you've seen glimpses of since she became your partner."

* * *

"Angela, can you help me figure out what Booth's behavior means?" Brennan asks as she and her best friend sit on her bedroom floor, unpacking her bag from the work trip with Booth.

Angela smirks as she hands Brennan a top. She wants to mention that Brennan doesn't seem too opposed to psychology as long as it isn't being used on her, but that would scare her away. "Sure, sweetie," she says softly. "What'd he do while you two were away—and _not_ having sex—out in the woods?"

"He was just acting strangely. He seemed much different than he was when he usually is when we're working a case here."

"Well you're gonna need to be more specific if you want my help, Bren."

Brennan sighs before replying. "Well," she begins, "there was the breakfast thing." She pauses for a moment before elaborating. "I didn't come down to breakfast after we were out at the bar and he seemed upset with me for some reason."

"Did you two have plans to meet for breakfast?"

"Not really. I mentioned that _maybe_ I would cover his breakfast because he had a $50 a day limit, whereas I had no limit, but I don't really think that constitutes a plan."

"Maybe not in your mind, but that may have seemed like a plan to Booth, sweetie."

"But I think he may have just been upset that he had to pay for his own meal."

Angela sighs, trying to figure out how to get the best picture of what actually happened so she can interpret Booth's actions for her friend. "Do you remember what he said after you didn't come down for breakfast?"

"Of course I do, Angela, I have an eidetic memory. You know that." Brennan looks exasperated as she replies to her friend. She almost regrets asking for Angela's help, but knows that if she didn't, she'd simply be frustrated with Booth.

"Then set the scene, sweetie, tell me what happened. And _just_ the facts, give me the actual words of the conversation, not your interpretation of whether or not you had plans."

Brennan shoots her friend a dirty look before replying, "We were walking through the woods with the Sheriff to track the Park Ranger. And he said, ' _You didn't come down for breakfast, Bones.'_ I told him I wasn't hungry and apologized that he had to pay for his own meal. Then he said, ' _Called your room, there was no answer.'_ At this point, I was frustrated with his inquisition into how I spent my morning, so I said, ' _Why the sudden interest in my morning habits, Booth?'_ "

"What happened next?"

"He found the button he left to mark his place the night before, so we went back to talking about the case."

Angela looks perplexed for a moment, then asks, "Bren, didn't you say this was the morning after you two went out dancing at the bar?"

"Yes. Why does that matter?" Brennan asks, looking confused. Angela, on the other hand, looks smug now.

"You told me what happened that night at the bar. Every single man in town was dancing with you, hitting on you. Booth was jealous. I think he thought you may have slept with one of them and that's why you didn't meet him for breakfast. Thought you were still getting your rocks off with Charlie the overnight guy."

"What do rocks have to do with this?"

"It's an expression, Bren. He thought you were having sex that morning."

"That's ridiculous. First of all," Brennan huffs, "I would never sleep with a man in a town that small when we still didn't know who was the murderer. Second of all, Booth has no reason to be jealous even if I _did_ sleep with one of them. He has a girlfriend."

"Having a girlfriend doesn't make him immune to jealousy, Bren. I already told you, I think their relationship is on the way out and I _know_ he has feelings for you."

"I still think he just didn't want to pay for his own meal," Brennan deflects.

"Whatever you say, sweetie. What else was he doing that was so weird?"

* * *

Booth tries to remind himself why he can't let himself fall for Bones. It's almost working until he remembers how it felt to dance with her that night in the bar. Thinking about having her in his arms, Booth can't wipe the smile off his face. Feeling her laugh while they danced gave him the best high he's had since he quit gambling.

"God," he says to himself. "I feel better after dancing with her than I do after sleeping with anyone else since I've met her." With this realization, he takes a swig of the glass of wine he poured himself with dinner. He can't fall for her, he's fighting so hard not to. No matter how hard he fights, though, he knows it's a losing battle.

* * *

"He was weird when we went out cause you told us to have a drink and some fun," Brennan says.

"Again, Bren, you need to give me more to go on than just 'weird.' What was he doing?" Angela responds.

Brennan shoots her friend a dirty look before responding, "He had his shirt unbuttoned practically halfway down his chest."

"He was in a bar, Bren, do you expect him to go in there full suit and tie?"

"Of course not, Angela, I just don't understand why he needed to unbutton it so far. The first button or two would have served the same purpose, just without showing so much skin."

"So now you have a problem with Booth showing skin?" Angela smirks. "And I thought Booth was the only one in this relationship who had jealousy issues."

"What do you mean _relationship_ , Ange? Booth and I are not in a relationship. We are just partners," Brennan says, glaring at her friend.

"The word relationship doesn't need to mean a romantic relationship. You should know that, Miss Literal. A partnership is a type of relationship." Angela notes, but doesn't comment on, the fact that Brennan didn't deny her jealousy. _This is progress_ , she thinks. "If all he did in the bar was unbutton his shirt a little, then he wasn't being weird, Bren."

"That wasn't all he did; he sat at the bar while I was dancing until all of a sudden he was up and cutting in. He looked almost angry when he asked the sheriff if he could cut in."

"How many guys did you dance with that night again?"

"Three. Charlie, the murderer, and the sheriff."

"That would be why he looked upset and why he cut in. He was jealous then, too, sweetie."

"I don't understand why you're so convinced he would be jealous, Ange."

"Okay, what'd he say when he cut in? Explain the conversation to me and maybe I can give you some more concrete evidence that you'll believe," Angela says as she moves to sit on Brennan's bed. They have finished unpacking and her back is beginning to ache from sitting on the floor.

Brennan moves to join Angela on the bed as she recounts her conversation with Booth: _"What happened to your shirt?"_

" _Well, we're in a bar. It's a look."_

" _Everybody is pumping me."_

" _Sorry?"_

" _For information on the case."_

" _Bones, they're only pretending to be interested in the case."_

" _Why?"_

" _They're hitting on you."_

" _Are you sure?"_

" _Yes, I'm sure. You're the hottest thing this town has seen in a long time."_

When Brennan finishes telling her story and looks up, Angela's mouth is wide open. "Why are you looking at me like that, Ange?" she asks.

"Sweetie. I'm a bit shocked that even you can't see the jealousy dripping off of Booth in that encounter. Oh, and by the way, he was totally right—they were all hitting on you."

"I do not understand how his actions indicate jealousy," Brennan blusters.

"Shouldn't you be able to identify the anthropological markers or whatever of jealousy?"

* * *

Thinking about dancing with her reminds Booth of something else. He suddenly realizes how possessive he was of her this trip. He knows he isn't doing so great with the whole "treat her like a partner" thing in general, but this trip he was exceptionally bad.

When he sifts through his memories, though, he can't blame himself. Every man in that town was ready to jump her bones, and she wasn't exactly turning them down herself. "And she doesn't have to," the voice in his head pipes in. "She's single, she can have sex with whoever she wants." Booth's fists clench at the thought of her in bed with someone, with someone _else_.

As soon as the men in that town laid eyes on her, they started trying to get in her pants. The moment they met the sheriff he had asked her out. The memory begins to replay itself in his mind: _"Suddenly I wish I was FBI."_ If it had stopped at that, Booth would have found it charming. He knows he's lucky to work with someone as beautiful and intelligent as Bones. But the sheriff didn't stop there. _"Do you have dinner plans?" he asks Brennan as she's getting up to leave. Booth puts his arm around her waist and guides her out of his office. "We're working," he says over his shoulder, tossing a binder at the sheriff._

Looking back, Booth honestly isn't sure how he managed to escape that one without getting an earful from Brennan. Actually, now that he thinks about it, she didn't really object to any of his possessiveness this trip. She fought his protectiveness when she missed breakfast, but that was it. "She didn't even mind when I cut in to dance with her at the bar," he says to himself. And then his mind is back in that moment. He couldn't sit there and watch every man in town put his paws all over his partner. _"Thought you could use a break," he says as he takes Brennan into his arms and moves with her, effortlessly, across the dance floor. "What happened to your shirt?" she asks. When she does, Booth can't help but puff out his chest slightly at the fact that she noticed._ _"Well, we're in a bar. It's a look."_

His brain skips ahead to his favorite moment. _"Check out the competition," he says as he dips her all the way backwards so she can see Diane sitting at the bar. As he talks, his heart flutters at the feel of her pressing into him as she arches her back. His mind wanders, wondering how that action would feel under different circumstances._ In the moment, he had to reel himself in quickly to keep her from feeling his train of thought, but now he can linger. He can, but he shouldn't, so he tries to push his thoughts forward.

Regardless of his possessiveness and her apparent sexual taunt at breakfast, the case went well and their partnership felt solid. He still regrets brushing her off last case, especially after she gave him his own Jeffersonian ID. He hopes that he made up for it when he gave her a gun when they went to arrest Dr. Rigby.

He flashes back to that memory, smiling. _"Moments like this are why I need a gun," she says before they enter the room to look for Rigby. He knows she's right, so he bends down and gives her the gun he has attached to his ankle. "Where else do you keep them?" she asks. The question is innuendo-filled and he'd love to comment if they weren't trying to arrest a murderer. "That is for self defense, so don't just go blasting away in there," he says, ignoring the innuendo and focusing on the important matter: arresting a murderous cannibal._

That time, he isn't even sure if she noticed the sexual nature of her comment. In this case, her ignorance of colloquialisms seemed to extend to those of a sexual nature. He chuckles at the memory as he moves to the sink to wash his dishes from dinner.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Angela is leaving Brennan's apartment for the night. She's frustrated that her friend appears to be purposely ignoring all the potential and the sexual tension between her and Booth. "Eventually the tension will become too much and spill over," Angela says to herself. "The question is just when, and I hope it's sometime soon."

As Brennan shuts the door behind Angela, her mind races through everything Angela had said tonight. "Shit," she says. "He really did think I slept with someone that night." She walks to the kitchen and pours herself a glace of wine, attempting to slow her thoughts and her heart with the alcohol. "If he was that upset about me sleeping with someone, he must really be jealous. Although, that could just be because he thought there was a chance I slept with a murderer." Her attempt at rationalization cannot fool even her. She knows the jealousy wasn't tied to the murder; it was just tied to her. She sighs as she takes a sip of wine, sitting down on the couch, her shoulders curling in a bit.

All his behavior makes sense, every weird thing he did all trip, if she accepts the fact that he's jealous. That he's jealous of the fact that she might be interested in other men. Truthfully, she didn't really need Angela to explain it to her. Having Angela's opinion made it harder for her to fight the conclusion, but she didn't need it.

She suspected that he was jealous throughout the case. Turning down dinner invitations, putting his arm around her waist, cutting in on the dance floor—she noticed all of it. She thought he was jealous. But because she's an empiricist who isn't very good at reading people, she decided to test the theory. Her mind rolls back to their breakfast conversation from that morning: _"You know, I'm going to come back up here this winter. Charlie says the skiing's great," she says. He smiles as he replies, "Oh, so it's Charlie." She's confused that he's smiling, not acting jealous, but she doesn't let it show. "Yeah, the overnight guy," she replies. "I know who he is," Booth laughs. Brennan decides to push a little further, to see if Booth will react to something more sexual. "I bet he's a great skier. His hips and thighs are perfectly developed for strength and maneuverability," she says._ _"I'm done," Booth says, pushing his plate away._ _"What? No good? You want some cornflakes?" Brennan asks, offering him a bite of her own breakfast. The irony is not lost on her that she's ruined his appetite with sexual innuendo and is now offering him the food designed to be so bland it would quell masturbatory urges._

She smiles at the memory, proud of her ability to test a theory without giving it away. She pauses for a moment when she realizes that she's happy about the fact that he's jealous, too. She shouldn't be happy about that. Regardless of that, she remembers that Booth thinks she slept with someone during the case. She doesn't know why, but she doesn't want him to think that. She doesn't know what to do to correct his assumption, though.

* * *

In a better mood than when he first arrived home, Booth allows himself one of his favorite activities after a case. He runs through all the simple, mundane memories that he and Bones made together during the case. He realizes she probably doesn't remember most of them the way he does, but that doesn't ruin it for him. He enjoys being around her. He wishes they could be more, but he doesn't think anything could ruin spending time together, just the two of them.

His mind lingers on one moment, after they got to Washington State but before they reached Aurora. _They were driving towards the small town, discussing his seriously low spending limit. "You're a smart ass, you know that?" he says, looking away from the road momentarily to look at her. "Objectively I'd say I'm very smart, although it has nothing to do with my ass," she replies seriously._

He loves when she does that, when she doesn't understand a simple phrase and manages to look adorable while she completely misses the point. At first, he found it annoying, but he's beginning to find it endearing. "God," he says to himself, "you're so far gone, Booth."

Laughing at the moment, his brain switches gears slightly. His brain focuses on her ass. He finds himself replaying memories of her walking in front of him, staring at her ass. He feels his arousal stirring and snaps out of his reverie. "Get it together, Booth. You can't sit here fantasizing about her ass, fantastic as it may be. She's your partner, _and_ you're with Tessa. You need to treat her like your partner, even if it's just in your thoughts." He walks to his bathroom in order to get ready for bed, eager to put this case behind him and hopeful that they'll catch another soon.

* * *

Although she isn't entirely sure why, Brennan decides to send Booth a text. All she knows is that she needs to correct his assumption and she doesn't think that can wait until they catch another case. She goes through her nighttime routine, washing her face and putting on her pajamas, writing the text in her mind. As she climbs into bed, she grabs her phone and types the message: _Hi Booth. Angela has informed me that you most likely think I slept with someone, likely Charlie the overnight guy, the night we went to the bar. She thinks that is the reason you were so upset and nosy about the fact that I did not come down for breakfast that morning. I feel obligated to let you know that your assumption is incorrect; I did not have sexual intercourse with anyone during our case in Aurora._

She stares at her phone for five minutes before deciding whether or not to sign the message. She decides not to, feeling that simplicity is best in this scenario, and hits send. She wants to sleep, but decides to wait for his response before going to sleep. She doubts he'll be in bed yet. He must have needed to stop to eat something when they got back, especially considering he barely touched his breakfast.

* * *

As Booth is about to climb into bed, his phone dings, indicating that he has a text message. He looks down and sees it's from Bones, which is odd. They don't typically talk between cases. As he opens the message, his face drains of color. Even though he knows he's caught, he can't help but laugh at just how _Bones_ the message is, knowing Angela definitely did not help her write it. "Shit," he mumbles. "I was really hoping she wouldn't catch on. I didn't realize she'd call in Angela for scenario-interpretation backup." His thoughts race as he tries to figure out how to respond. He decides to go for something safe.

He types out his message: _Hey Bones. I was just worried about ya, that's all. It's none of my business who you do or do not sleep with. When you didn't answer, I just got worried that you weren't safe. There was a murderer on the loose, after all._

As he hits send, he hopes this message will effectively diffuse the situation.

* * *

Brennan feels her phone vibrate in her hand with Booth's response. Despite the fact that is response is plausible, she can't shake the feeling that he's lying. She decides to let him get away with it, though, not wanting to bring any more awkwardness into the partnership. That was her intention behind her text message in the first place. She wants to keep their working relationship clear.

 _Although I understand that sentiment, I want to note that I do not need your protection. Ask the Homeland Security officer you had arrest me in the airport; I'm more than capable of defending myself._

She hits send and then turns off her phone, not wanting to keep herself awake talking to Booth all night. Despite her desire to sleep, her comment about the airport reminds her of Guatemala and stirs another memory. _"What took you took you to Guatemala? Ecotourism?" she laughs. "I went to shoot somebody through the heart from 1,500 feet," he says before turning to walk away from her._

She shudders at the memory. She can't believe she made light of his time as a sniper _again._ Although, to be fair, this time she had no idea that was the reason he was in Guatemala. With this thought, though, she updates her mental tally. She knows of two people that Booth has killed: Farid Masruk and someone in Guatemala. On the other hand, she and Booth have caught the killers of Gemma Arrington, Cleo Eller, Nestor Olivos, and Hamid Masruk. Dr. Rigby means another tally in the win column. She still isn't sure whether she should count Hamid considering they hadn't arrested his killer; Booth needed to shoot him. She would count it, but she doesn't fully understand Booth's sense of morality, so she can't be sure if he does.

She knows the list of people he's killed is much longer than two, but she's glad that she's helping lengthen the other side of the tally chart. She falls asleep thinking of Booth and of how many more kills he'll tell her about. She doesn't know why, but she wants him to trust her with his struggles.

* * *

As Booth reads her message, he laughs. Even through text, her banter keeps him on his toes. He thinks he managed to escape from this predicament, but knows he needs to be careful moving forward. He sends her a final goodnight message and puts his phone down on his bedside table.

He lies down, grateful that their partnership seems solid. Slowly, he thinks they're moving towards friends. Now, they just need to stop pushing each other away whenever they get the chance.

He needs to keep his possessiveness, protectiveness, and jealousy in check if he wants to keep things moving the way they are. He may have gotten away with a lie this time, but he knows Bones is too smart for it to work again.

As his brain follows this track, he remembers Tessa and sighs, running both hands down his face. She's too smart to fall for this too. He knows that soon she's going to end things because she can sense he's not invested. Part of him is grateful that he feels the end coming soon. He feels like shit over the fact that he's stringing Tessa along when he knows he wants Bones. The other part of him, though, keeps holding out hope that eventually his desire for Brennan will wane and he'll be happy with Tessa. She's smart, beautiful, and generally way out of his league; he knows he _should_ be happy with her.

Booth falls asleep trying to figure out whether he can find a way to turn "should" into his reality.


	5. Trust and Faith

**A/N: Hi, guys! I know I kinda went MIA for a few weeks and I'm sorry about that. A friend of mine passed away super unexpectedly at the beginning of the month, and this is the first time I've been able to write since I found out. I'm still not in the right headspace to write fluff, so it might be a bit before I can update "Memorial Day." That said, I'm going to try my hardest to finish it up before I move back to school (which is September 2** **nd** **). I'm trying to get back into the swing of writing, so hopefully I'll have something else up within the next week, but I make no promises. Also, I've been getting back into Twitter lately. If you're interested in following me, my handle is auntietino. You can usually tell if I'm working on this series based on live tweets/check-ins for season 1 episodes.**

 **Okay, I know that was long, sorry about that. All that said, this chapter is fairly long as well. There was more I could've used, but I needed to end the chapter eventually. This series is like a little analytical heaven for my English major soul. I hope you enjoy this chapter and please review, I need the motivation boost!**

* * *

" _They give you a garbage bag to carry all your stuff, like they're telling you everything you own is garbage. And then you have to go to a new school in clothes that smell like garbage bags."_

As her words reverberate in his head, he can't help but shudder. He never thought he'd hear that level of vulnerability in her voice. He never thought she could connect so well with a kid. "You never realized she was a foster kid," he mumbles to himself. This case threw him off. He thought he was beginning to figure her out finally, but then this case changed everything.

He's heading home, grateful Tessa didn't call and ask to see him tonight. He knows that the end is coming with her, but he can't bring himself to accept that. He wants to prolong the inevitable even though he's never the one making the plans anymore. The relationship has become one-sided, but he can't find a way around it. "Break up with her," part of himself says, but he shakes his head at that thought. Regardless of how things are going, he can't find a single reason he should break up with Tessa. She's gorgeous, intelligent, and into him; what more could he ask for?

"Bones."

Her name leaves his mouth before he recognizes that the thought was even in his head. "Dammit!" he yells into the car. He can't believe the hold that she has on him. It was bad before Aurora, but he's been even worse since. Feeling her pressed against his body when they were dancing in the bar had ruined him. He's barely been able to touch Tessa since that case, and she can sense that something is off. "Maybe I won't even have a chance to break up with her," he thinks to himself. "If I keep going like this, she's going to drop me on my ass real soon."

* * *

At the banquet, Brennan is distracted. She's struggling to carry on a simple conversation, even about her work, and she cannot wait until she can be alone for the night. Thankfully, Angela frequently rescues her from the donors so she doesn't make a fool of herself. All of these rescues, however, come with a cost. "What's going on with you tonight, Bren?" Angela asks. "I know you're not really one for big social gatherings, but you can barely even talk to the donors about your work tonight. Usually that's the one thing you can _always_ talk about."

"It's nothing, I'm fine," Brennan responds, trying to turn away to get herself a glass of wine.

Angela touches her friend's shoulder to stop her. "You know I'm not dumb enough to believe that, don't you, sweetie? I may not have multiple doctorates, but I can tell when something is wrong with my best friend." Noting the way Brennan purses her lips together, Angela switches to a different tactic. "I know you don't like to talk about your feelings, Bren, but seeing you like this makes me all concerned."

Brennan's face slips momentarily, and Angela knows she's found her mark. "I'm sorry, Angela, I don't mean to worry you. It's just some stuff with this case, I can't seem to get it out of my head."

"Because Shawn and David Cook were foster kids too?" As the words leave her mouth, she watches her friend's eyes widen and nostrils flare. So she's right, but she also needs to get Brennan away from this crowd and these donors before she completely freaks. Grabbing her hand, she leads her up a staircase and into the first unlocked door she finds.

"It's okay, sweetie, no one else needs to know," Angela says as they sit down on a couch. "You know I'd never tell anyone. But you can talk about it with me, okay? I know this must have brought up a lot of feelings for you."

"I –I–" Brennan stutters.

"I know, Bren," Angela responds, taking her friends' hands in her own. "Just talk and I can help you figure out what you're feeling."

Brennan looks into her friend's eyes and softens slightly. She doesn't want to talk about this case or these feelings, but she knows she needs to. "Watching Booth interrogate Shawn…it brought back all those feelings of helplessness from when I ended up in the system," Brennan says, voice breaking.

"It's okay," Angela murmurs as she pulls Brennan into a hug. "You're not helpless, Bren. You're the most independent person I've ever met."

"Thank you," Brennan whispers. "But it was even worse that it was Booth…"

"Because you like him. You like working with him and you think he's a good guy, I'm not getting into the debate about the sexual tension right now," she adds, sensing a rebuttal coming. Brennan nods. "I get that, it's hard to see someone you like make kids feel like that, especially when you know exactly how the system makes those kids feel everyday."

"But they have someone who loves them," Brennan adds. "Whether they're her foster children or not, Margaret Sanders loves those boys."

"You're right, she does. And you know what?" Brennan pulls back to look at Angela and tilts her head slightly. "You and Booth made sure they got to stay with her, got to stay somewhere they're safe and loved and _together_ , Brennan. You did that for them and you got justice for Charlie."

"I didn't do anything to make sure they stayed with Margaret, Angela. It was Booth, he did all that work."

"But would he have done it if you didn't promise Shawn he would?" Angela asks knowingly. She doesn't know how many favors Booth had to call in to get this situation approved, but she knows it wasn't easy. And she knows that he did it for Brennan more than he did it for those boys.

"I…I don't know, Ange," Brennan responds.

"Yes you do, sweetie."

* * *

As he pulls into his parking spot, Booth forgets about Tessa altogether. All he can think about is Brennan's interview with Shawn Cook. First, he thinks of how proud he is. She did such a good job at both comforting Shawn and at getting the information they needed. Next, though, he remembers that, once again, he didn't have faith in her abilities.

" _You have to get Shawn to tell you where he took Charlie when they left the mall."_

" _He won't talk to me."_

" _Let me do i.t"_

" _Oof, no. People are not your strong point, Bones, and besides he's not gonna care how many facts you put in front of him."_

" _Could you just go with me on this one, Booth? We're trying to catch a killer. Let me help._

" _When's the last time you even talked to a kid?"_

" _I know what to say."_

He knows that eventually he relented and let her run the interview, but he hates how much persuading it took. After the Nestor Olivos case, Booth swore to himself that he'd stop treating her like this, like she's completely socially inept. He knows she's not. She doesn't understand certain social conventions, but she's certainly not heartless. She proves that on every case they work. As he walks through his apartment door, he knows he needs to apologize. She may be over it at this point because he let her do the interview, but he needs to make sure she knows. He knows she's more than most people see and he needs to remember to treat her accordingly.

He sits down on the couch and turns on the Flyers game. It's only preseason, but seeing hockey on his TV makes him happy regardless. He pulls out his cell phone and shoots her a text: _Hey Bones. I know you're out at your party, so you don't have to respond, but I just wanted to apologize. I'm sorry I put up such a fight about letting you interview Shawn Cook. I was too hard on you and I should've trusted you from the beginning. That's what partners do._

With that taken care of, he feels a little lighter. Knowing there's nothing in his apartment to eat, he orders himself some Thai food. With forty minutes to kill before it arrives, he puts his feet up to watch the game. The Flyers are up 3-0 after the first, so Booth's mind begins to drift. Unsurprisingly, he goes back to Bones and her interview with Shawn Cook. Seeing her interact with him was probably the most vulnerable he'd ever seen her. When she told him about her parents might top this moment, but that was also separate from a case, not part of their casework.

The entire time she was doing the interview, he could see the vulnerability in her face. It killed him because he knew she was opening herself up to pain, but he was also so proud of her. She acts like she wants nothing to do with emotional aspects of cases, but this time she embraced the emotional and used it to get justice for a little boy and his family.

Her vulnerability also extends past her connection with Shawn in the interview room, and Booth knows that. Brennan knew that Booth, the prosecutor, and the child advocate were all watching the entire interaction. Booth had heard how Brennan had lost it on the prosecutor when he had been interrogating Shawn, which made it even more impressive. Brennan may not be good with people, but there's no way she thought she was escaping that interview without everyone present knowing she was in the system. She let people she didn't know and didn't even like know something she clearly keeps hidden so she could help those boys—both Charlie and Shawn.

"She let you see it, too," he thinks to himself with a smile. "That means she trusts you." In that moment, his feelings for her deepen. He tries to stop himself from going down this road, but he can't. She was so brave in that interview, doing everything in her power and exposing herself like that to make sure they got the bad guy. And they did more than get the bad guy. They kept a family together. She comforted Shawn when everyone else was treating him like a murderer.

Booth's mind focuses on the image of Shawn standing up, crying, to hug Brennan and tell her who hurt Charlie. At first she hesitated, unsure of what to do. After a moment, though, she relaxed and hugged him back, squeezing just a little bit tighter when he told her the name.

Although he tries to stop it, Booth's mind flashes to a scenario: Brennan comforting Parker. Not after something major like this—Booth could never imagine his little boy in a situation like Shawn Cook's—but after a fall on the playground. She'd sit down on the ground with him and pull him onto her lap. He'd cry into her shoulder while she rubbed his bag and told him it would all be okay. Eventually, he would calm down and she'd pick him up and carry him over to her car, where she'd have a ridiculously overstocked first aid kit ready. She'd clean his knee and let him choose which character Band-Aid he wanted to put over the cut.

Suddenly there's a knock at the front door, and Booth is pulled out of his reverie. As much as he was enjoying that mental image, he knows it's a good thing it got interrupted. He's with Tessa. Bones doesn't want him. Bones doesn't even know about Parker. He can't be picturing her treating him like her own child.

* * *

Eventually, Angela is satisfied with the minimal answers she can get out of Brennan. Sensing her friend's discomfort, she tells her to go home. "But Dr. Goodman will be upset if I leave, Angela," Brennan replies, torn. She clearly wants to escape the social pressures of this situation, but she does not feel like upsetting her boss over a silly party.

"I'll take care of it, Bren. I promise." When Brennan still doesn't look convinced, Angela takes her hand and walks her outside where she hails a cab. As she opens the door and nudges Brennan inside, she says, "I have a list of five prepared excuses depending on how he reacts _if_ he notices you left. Last I checked, he'd had a lot of scotch tonight." She closes the door and walks back into the party, refusing the give Brennan a chance to argue with her.

In a perfect world, Brennan would go talk to Booth about this case and open up about her time in the system. Angela knows that won't happen, but she doesn't want Brennan trying to process her emotions around a bunch of rich, judgmental assholes. Brennan and emotions is a dangerous enough combination as is, never mind when you add in a room full of people who are guaranteed to make rude comments about her friend's social shortcomings.

* * *

Brennan doesn't think to check her phone until she's halfway home. The only person she'd really expect a text message from is Angela, whom she just left, so she doesn't even know why she bothers. When she does check her phone, though, she sees a text from the last person she expects: Booth.

The dim glow of her phone illuminates her face as it is transformed by a smile. She doesn't understand why she smiles at his message. It really is not one that should elicit a happy response. For some reason the fact that he reached out to her at all makes her happy. She finds that she simply enjoys hearing from him outside of work, regardless of the context.

She has another moment of realization: Booth _apologized_ for underestimating her interpersonal capabilities in relation to the case. The last time he underestimated her like that, he simply remarked on the fact that she "got it right this time." An apology shows progress, an evolution of their partnership. This fact again makes her smile.

Brennan only realizes they have reached her apartment when the cab driver clears his throat. Shoving her phone in her purse, she pays the fare and climbs out of the cab. She begins to mentally write a response to Booth's message as she walks towards her apartment. Once she's inside, she types her reply: _While I appreciate your apology, I find that it is unnecessary. I have never before given you reason to believe I would be able to talk to Shawn Cook effectively, so it is rational that you did not think I would be able to._

Her response is slightly disingenuous. She knows that, rationally, what she said is true. She cannot, however, get rid of the feeling that Booth was correct in apologizing. While she is contemplating this apparent contradiction, she feels her phone buzz in her hand. Looking down, she sees that Booth has replied already. _Whether you think it's unnecessary or not, I'm sorry, Bones. You're my partner and I trust you. I didn't act that way and I should have. You did a great job with the interview._

Brennan feels her mood lighten at his response. She knows she was _effective_ in the interview as she got the necessary information. Somehow hearing Booth's praise makes her feel better, though. When she recognizes this, she freezes. She does not know when Booth got this power over her, and it scares her. She hasn't sought anyone's approval since she figured out that her parents weren't coming back. Why, then, does she feel borderline giddy at having received it from Booth?

* * *

Booth is putting his leftovers in the fridge when his phone buzzes with her response. As he reads it, he smiles. _Thank you, Booth. I trust you as well. I hope you are having an enjoyable evening; see you on Monday._

 _My night isn't as fun as yours, no fancy party, but it's not bad. Have a good weekend._

Knowing that Bones isn't mad at him, his mind returns to her interview with Shawn. He can't help but smile at how well she did. More than that, though, she was so brave. Booth knows that she won't understand that what she did was brave, but that level of vulnerability is scary. It's not easy for the typical person to reach that level, never mind for Brennan who closes herself off to her emotions and her past most of the time.

He may have his moments where he doubts whether bringing squints into the field is really a good idea, but she always proves that it is. Even when she's frustrating, she's an asset. She's braver than some of the agents he went through the Academy with, just not always in the same ways. Booth honestly can't think of an agent he knows who has used their past so vulnerably to bring justice to a victim.

"And more than that," he thinks, "she used it to keep a family together…well, she used her past and _me_ to keep a family together." He knows that he _should_ be angry with Brennan for making that promise—he had to call in practically every favor he was owed to keep it—but he can't be. Instead of anger, Booth feels pride. He's so proud of her for doing whatever she could to protect those boys and their family. He's proud of himself, too, for managing to keep her promise, impossible as that task seemed.

Underneath that pride, Booth feels sadness. He knows why she fought so hard to keep that family together—because she knows what it's like to lose a family that loves you. She hasn't told him about her experience in the system, but he could read enough from her reactions to know that it wasn't good. He knows that she didn't get to be with her brother and her foster family, or families, didn't love her like Margaret loves all three of her boys.

She would probably think he was feeling sorry for her, but that's not true. He doesn't pity her in the slightest. But thinking about the fact that she suffered for any length of time in the foster care system hurts him.

* * *

When Brennan checks her text messages, she can't help but smile. She knows it isn't a rational reaction, but every time she sees his name pop up, she feels a swell of joy. She also knows that she does not need to reply to his message. Although she struggles to read social cues, she understands that Booth saying "have a good weekend" could easily serve as the end to their conversation. For some reason, however, she feels compelled to reply.

 _The big, fancy party was not that great. I am home and on my way to bed already, although I presume the others are enjoying themselves at the reception._

Thinking about it now, Brennan remembers why she didn't enjoy the party. Regardless of the fact that she and Booth closed the case, she could not get Shawn Cook or Charlie Sanders off her mind all night. For that matter, she could not get her own past out of her head either. She knows she should talk about it. She could have told Angela when she pulled her aside at the reception, she could have told Booth the truth instead of lying to him.

Although she knows this, she also knows she is not ready to discuss it yet. It is a big step for her to admit to Booth that she was in the system in the first place. She knows that she couldn't have given him the full story, the truth, as to why this case was hitting her so hard.

In so many ways, she saw herself in Shawn Cook. He was a foster kid who only wanted to stay with the family where he felt safe and loved. He didn't want to risk going into yet another abusive home where he was just a check, not a child.

For Shawn, though, his foster home—the family that Margaret Sanders created for him and his brother—was where he was safe and loved. With his biological family, he didn't have that luxury. Margaret was the best he had ever known, and likely the best he ever will know. Brennan hopes that Shawn and David will be able to stay with Margaret forever. She doesn't want them to go back into the turmoil of an abusive home, especially when they've learned to trust and love someone like Margaret.

Brennan does not know why the Cook brothers ended up in the foster care system, but she does know that their father was abusive. That is all she needs to know to realize that they are better off with Margaret Sanders. She makes a mental note to check in on the boys now and then. She wants to do everything she can to make sure they are safe. With Margaret, they're safe, but they won't be with their biological father or in another foster home.

When Brennan thinks about the boys, she reflects on her own experience. She cannot help but wonder who got the better situation, them or her? They faced abuse early, but landed in a loving foster home, where they may be lucky enough to stay forever. She had fifteen idyllic years with her family before everything got turned on its head. She only had three years in foster care, but they were nearly unbearable. She did not understand that other people could be so cruel, especially to children.

As she follows this train of thought, Brennan does something she rarely allows herself to do: she cries. She cries for the boys, for the abuse she endured, and for her family, who she may never find again. Regardless of the fact that they abandoned her, she still misses them on some level. She leaves her phone on the kitchen counter as she goes to her bedroom. She allows herself to cry until the tears run out, and then she begins to get ready for bed.

* * *

When Booth reads her message, he cannot help but worry. He knows she struggled with this case and wonders if that's why she left the party before everyone else. _Are you alright, Bones? I'm here if you need anything. I'm free all weekend. Just let me know._

As time passes and she hasn't answered, Booth begins to pace. Since her first response, she's texted back quickly. "Shit, maybe I scared her off," he thinks. Not knowing what else to do, he sends another message. _You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to. But I'm here if you need me. I just wanna know you're okay._

Putting his phone aside for the time being, he starts to get ready for bed. As he brushes his teeth, his mind goes back to her interview with Shawn Cook yet again. He can't seem to think about anything else tonight.

This time, he focuses on the way she looked at him, though. When she promised Shawn that he and David could stay with Margaret, she look directly at Booth, even though she couldn't actually see him through the one-way mirror. In that moment, he felt her eyes pierce him and was grateful she couldn't actually see him. He panicked internally for a moment, not knowing how he'd keep her promise. Then, she'd done something even more unexpected; she'd called him her friend.

Their entire partnership, Booth has been chasing that label. He feels so drawn to Brennan and he always feels like that pull only affects him. When she called him her friend, though, it gave him some level of validation. They may not feel the same way, he knows he needs to get over his romantic feelings for her, but their relationship—friendship—isn't entirely one-sided. She called him her friend and trusted him enough to put the value of her word on the line at his ability to pull through for those boys. At this thought, his mind flashes to their conversation from earlier that evening.

" _You look nice…better than nice, you look…very…"_

" _Thanks._

" _Bones, how did you know I was gonna keep your promise?"_

" _What promise?_

" _To get Shawn and David back with Margaret Sanders."_

" _Maybe I was lying to catch the bad guy…I learned that trick from you. The end justifies the means." As Booth turns to walk away, Brennan says, "Booth, I knew you'd back me up. I knew you wouldn't make me a liar."_

" _How'd you know?"_

" _Because you wanna go to Heaven"_

" _But you don't believe in Heaven"_

" _But you do"_

In that moment, Brennan had shown Booth that she has faith in him. Would she call it that? Probably not. Booth doubts she even recognizes the term as a valid word, never mind one that she gives credence to, but still. She has faith in him. She may not believe in God, but she believes in him and his ability to back her up and to do what's right. Even though she's not answering his text messages, this manages to lessen the pressure that Booth feels in his chest. "She trusts me," he whispers to himself as he climbs into bed.

He checks his phone one final time before he turns off the light. When he sees that there's still no response from Bones, he hopes she's fallen asleep. He knows this case was rough on her and hopes she's sleeping it off. "If I don't get a response by noon," he thinks to himself, "I'll bring her a coffee, just to make sure she's okay."

* * *

When Brennan stops crying, she gets ready for bed. As she lies in bed trying to sleep, though, her thoughts race. She worries that Angela will leave the Jeffersonian. She remembers her family. She remembers her foster families, even the ones she's tried to forget. She hopes that Shawn, David, and Margaret will all be okay and that they stay together forever. But more than any of that, she thinks about Booth.

She knew that eventually he would figure out that she had been a foster child. She had not done a good job hiding it during the case. Anyway, it should not have been a secret anyway; her parents disappeared, where else would she have gone? But she did not expect herself to be so emotional when he mentioned it to her.

" _And I'm sorry"_

" _For what?" Brennan asks, looking at her computer as she tries to remain detached._

" _You have personal experience in the system"_

 _Brennan pauses for a moment. She looks at him and swallows before she says, "I was foster child until my grandfather got me out." Her jaw is tight as she looks at her computer, avoiding Booth's gaze so she doesn't let the emotions flow over._

" _And when you said, 'They take you away from your brother,' I kind of had the feeling you weren't talking about David Cook."_

" _Booth, I'll tell you all about it one day, but tonight I have to get dressed for a party."_

" _Oh. Okay, Bones."_

She was grateful then for the party; it gave her an excuse to escape the conversation. Looking back, she knows that if she had said any more, she would have failed to control her emotions in front of Booth.

She doesn't know why she lied to him. Yes, the truth is painful, but that's never kept her from telling it before. Deep down, part of her knows that she could not handle the pain during the case, and not in front of her partner. She may trust him enough to tell him about her parents, but she is not strong enough to be that vulnerable in front of him. She still feels the need to box her emotions up, to evaluate them only when absolutely necessary and if she is alone.

Part of her thinks that one day she will trust him enough to be vulnerable with him. She'd told him that she'd tell him the full story one day, and she meant it. Eventually, she will tell him the truth. Eventually, she will open herself up. But not today, not yet.

She does not know how she feels about anything yet, so she cannot explain it to anyone else. What Brennan doesn't realize is that talking about it may help her understand.

Regardless, her racing thoughts keep sleep at bay. Standing from her bed, she moves to her office. She decides to work on her second book. She feels indebted to her publisher and therefore compelled to write a second book. She cannot go back to the Jeffersonian after leaving the gala tonight and she also cannot sleep. Therefore, working on a novel seems to be the most logical course of action.

As she begins typing away at her laptop, the racing thoughts fade away. She enters the headspace of Kathy and the world seems simpler.

When she's done working, she has calmed enough to fall asleep without worrying about her own issues. She climbs into bed and pulls the covers over her. Thinking about it now, maybe writing a second novel won't just be because she feels an obligation to her publishing company. Writing again reminds her of the perks of the process. Brennan always has a clearer head after she writes. And as a rational person, she knows it's best to always have as clear a head as possible.


End file.
